Syakir was the academically gifted kid in his family. Then home became unsafe at sixteen. He's nursing-trained, arts-loving, and still being told by employers to hide his tattoos and accept less pay. We refuse.
You should know, before reading any further, that Syakir won competitions in school. He was placed in the Express stream. He received bursaries. He earned a diploma in nursing. He has, since being inside, completed nine SkillsFuture courses, on subjects ranging from social media marketing to TikTok Shop operations. The picture you might be carrying of an ex-offender does not survive contact with Syakir.
What home was actually like
His family was a complicated knot. A stepmother, a stepfather, multiple stepsiblings, comparisons that landed like accusations. His passion was the arts; his stepfather valued sports and made sure he heard, often, that his version of achievement did not count. When his name appeared in the newspaper for a school dance event, the response at home was criticism. At sixteen, he was told to leave.
A sixteen-year-old looking for acceptance, working out how to pay rent, learning to live alone in rented rooms — there is a near-inevitability to where that path can lead. He found his way to drugs. He found his way to prison. Twice.
The licensing hearing that almost broke him
After his first release he tried to renew his nursing license. The hearing was scheduled. Then cancelled because of illness on the board's side. Months of silence. Then on the day of the rescheduled hearing, he was informed at the last possible moment that he was supposed to be there. He was told, in effect, to put his entire life on pause for an indefinite call-up. But pause requires savings. And savings require work. And work requires a license.
In job interviews he was repeatedly instructed to hide his past, cover his tattoos, accept pay below his qualifications because his record was framed as a discount. He had been a nursing student paid as a healthcare assistant while doing staff-nurse work. The arithmetic of injustice is not subtle.
What changed at the cafe
When Syakir came to us, he came expecting another version of what he had already endured. What he found, instead, was a workplace where problems were named instead of buried. Where leadership asked, “What could we do differently?” rather than, “Whose fault is this?” Where his tattoos were neither hidden nor remarked upon. Where his nine SkillsFuture certificates were treated as the asset they actually are.
He gets a particular joy from working with younger boys and girls at the cafe who choose to listen to him — not because they pity him, but because they respect him for getting back up. That respect, given in both directions, is one of the most underrated medicines available to a man rebuilding his life.
How he wants to be seen
Syakir told us, clearly: “See me exactly as I am today.” Not the kid in the Express stream. Not the resume gap. Not the tattoos. Just the man showing up, grateful, capable, ready. We see him. We hope you will too.
Suggestions are tested in practice. If they don't work, the conversation shifts toward exploring why and what could be done differently. No judgment. No pressure to produce a ‘right' answer. That is the workplace I needed.— Syakir, age 32
Soli Deo Gloria — to God alone be the glory.